Throw me something, Fleur de Lis!
by CaideSin
Summary: laissez les bons temps rouler Mardi Gras, indeed. Guest appearances by Bob Marley, Jimi Hendrix and the Experience as well as Peter Fonda, Dennis Hopper, Toni Basil, Karen Black, and Larxene. Music courtesy of a lady of legacy. For Bisquick.


He spends the parade under Roxas' dress, making him tall and beautiful and stately. Spends the parade slipping on flickering beads so it looks like they're gliding down the street. Spends the parade in the center of the screams, half muffled by the taffeta-purple gown tossed over the both of them. Spends the parade as the glorious Queen's concubine.

Roxas gets on the stage after some Wailers and fucks out a mewling version of _Piece of My Heart_ to the naked skin and silk screams of a thousand applauding hands. Under the lamplight and the blue smoke his magenta lips are dark, wet and curved like plums and he bats his glued on lashes like strobes over neon lights. There are huge drooping blue flowers in his spiky blond coiffure, contrasting hideously with his heliotrope & harlequin & goldenrod gown.

Roxas shimmies his shoulders while Luxord slithers up to the mic to tell the moaning crowd they can win a kiss from the Lady, they've just got to come up here and impress her. Get a kiss from the Mardi Gras Queen of Hearts, Traverse Town!

The Concubine slips up the steps with the rest of the stampede, most of them greedy to push their luck at getting up his skirts.

There's a pretty blond woman who gets to try first, she towers over him and caresses one slopping breast with a mantis smile. She slips a lacquered card between Roxas' breasts and murmurs, "You're invited later."

Roxas makes a flirty face and moves down the line, letting the boys touch his dress and posture and flex and spout the occasional poem; heartbeat lines like I want to fuck you, bay-be, bay-be, let me fuck you, bay-be. Don't care if you're a trashy Mardi Gras Queen, don't care if you sing Janis Joplin songs, just wanna fuck you in the ass, bay-be, sweet-sweet-heart.

Roxas passes them by and lingers for a coy instant before the red-haired man with the coaled on clown lines under his dayglo green eyes. The Concubine quirks a couple fingers in Roxas' face and runs his tongue up between them. Roxas sneers and sashays past in his stiletto-green heels.

In the end, it's some white boy in a stupid cap, probably going to get ruffed up by a native if he takes that confidence-of-his down the wrong back street.

Their show finishes too quickly and Luxord hurries the Queen off the stage so the Experience can set themselves right up. Axel finds him waiting on the next street, digging between his water balloon breasts for the card the woman had slipped there. Axel lends a hand, plunging down into the loop of sparkling wooden beads and transparent rubber tits, coming up like a fisherman with a free invite to the brothel up the street.

Roxas takes one look at the address and says that's where Mary and Karen and Olette have been working during the high season and they should go down and say hi, see if the other girls want to go out into the festival.

So, they push through the crowd and halfway up Arcade Street a slant-eyed Chinese boy pinches Roxas' ass and gets blown a kiss for his troubles. The boy backs off horrified by the Mardi Gras Queen. Axel, red hair and green eyes and hideous bright pink leisure suit, laughs and slings a protective arm around Roxas' waist. They make their way through a sea of long hairs and masked monsters.

Zexion and an amazing entourage of black skeleton-men slink towards them with an offering of kingcake on paper plates. They watch eagerly, blocking the flow of traffic on the street with ease. When Roxas' little plastic fork hits the trinket, the whole nightmare of skeletons gives a raucous cheer that startles a few of the passersby.

Axel makes a snide comment about being _unsurprised_ as he chokes down the rest of his cake. Zexion and his court move on past and Axel and his Queen take the last few blocks up to the brothel. The blonde from the stage greets them, motions them in and asks if they want a girl.

Roxas preens in a mirror and Axel goes and humps his ass, which makes the woman laugh. She's about to change her offer when Mary and Karen come stumbling out of one of the closed rooms, blundering down the stairs with their men—customers, indeed.

They catch sight of Roxas and coo at him, touching his dress, admiring the colors and his makeup. They compliment him on his trashy breasts. The boys behind them seem less amused and Axel asks where the four of them were headed.

The drunk says out, the other says they can tag along. Mary and Karen state that Olette has already gone off with her boys. So, the Queen, the Concubine, the Whores, and the Easy Riders take to the streets again. Wandering the parade filled concrete, staring at baubles on display in shoddy wooden carts, greeting the few they recognize, kissing anyone who asks.

**ﮚ**

The gray cemetery reeks of wet and the LSD smells like lightning. Karen is whimpering in the grass, Mary and her boy are trapped between the mausoleums, copulating desperately.

The Queen and the Concubine have found a somewhat comfortable place to fuck, half standing, half leaned across a tombstone, gripping an iron-wrought fence. The fence writhes, wet and slippery like a cunt beneath Roxas' hands. Axel's gauche pink suit has been shed and lit aflame like an evil second skin. It smolders in the wet grass. In the cemetery... where the blasphemy is hot and heavy and a thousand dead priests stand on their backs, watching.

The sky is bright, the Queen's skirts are shoved up over his hips; all the symbols of justice, faith, and power. The stockings still cling, but have been ripped at their center to let Axel _in_.

"Oh, God," Roxas murmurs and hears Karen scream something indistinct and terrified. His own thoughts shivering beneath him, sliding in the grass like his stiletto-green heels. He listens to Karen, a lost princess in a lost world, she keeps screaming and Axel says, "Your _thighs_." into his throat, groping at him, kissing at him until he shudders.

Roxas thinks about the first time the Queen met the Concubine and laughs, biting at his hand to make it softer until he stutters out, "D-drop dead." It cranks Axel like a smack until Roxas' dress is worse for wear where it's been scrapped raw against the grave.

The graveyard is wet, drowning everywhere like a ferris wheel above the sea, dipping down into the waters, blurring, redefining on glittering lines of reflection. Prayers whisper on the wind and Roxas has to close his gaudy-streaked eyes so that he can stop staring transfixed upon the sun...

Hours later, one of the boys, the one who'd been dressed in a flag until the acid had struck, comes ambling close to them and tells Roxas he's the most beautiful woman he's ever met and then wanders away again to sit in Mother Mary's arms.

**ﮚ**

They have breakfast on Frenchmen Street amongst the refuse.

Axel helps him get the plastic eyelashes off and cinches his dress in where the dripping breasts no longer sit.

His underskirts are stained with cum, not all of it his or Axel's.

It's quiet, amazingly so. There are higher attractions elsewhere, it seems.

* * *

**Standard Disclaimers.  
**


End file.
